


remember a day we dreamt

by Violea



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Eren Yeager Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mikasa Ackerman-centric, One Shot, POV Mikasa Ackerman, Sharing a Bed, Shingeki no Kyojin Chapter 138: A Long Dream Spoilers, based on the vision mikasa had, i wrote this because this chapter had me crying my heart out, kinda OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29921346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violea/pseuds/Violea
Summary: Let's live the rest of our lives peacefully. Just the two of us.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	remember a day we dreamt

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for grammatical mistakes! english isn't my native language

"Eren," Mikasa called, eyes wide. "You cut your hair."

He looks away, a faint pink hue appearing on his tanned cheeks. His hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously, feeling the short strands of his freshly cut hair.

"Ah, yeah. I figured, since you're letting your hair grow out, I'd cut mine." His gaze meets hers, a small smile forming on his lips. "Just like old times."

Mikasa's chest loosens at the sight of it, like releasing a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding this entire time. It was the first time since they ran away that Eren has smiled, has looked a tad bit happier.

He looks younger like this, with his hair cut short, a shirt loosely framing him, and that smile on his face. Coupled with her chin length hair and their casual clothes, she almost feels like they're fifteen again.

Almost.

He's taller now, they both are. They used to be the same height, but now, he nearly towers over her.

He's smiling, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's been a hollowness in them ever since that day in Shiganshina. She thinks it's when the light inside of him started to dim. The world has been steadily chipping away at him, taking away that brightness within.

Mikasa worries there'll come a time where she'll look and find nothing left of the light in him.

She wants to be there for him, to give him that beacon of light and pick up the broken pieces he's left behind in his self-appointed quest for freedom. But she has nothing left to give, it had been taken away from her years ago, and it was him who showed her how to live again; had wrapped her up in a scarf to stave off the cold and shown her the light of the sun to keep her warm.

She thinks she loved him, then. That ethereal boy whose bloodied hand wrapped around hers and dragged her back to the light.

Eren, as he is now, is brittle. One wrong push, one strong pull, is all it takes. Eren has always been strong, but years of strife erodes even the hardest of rocks.

So, for now, she'll take what she can get, and promises herself that they'll rebuild the broken pieces of light inside of them both.

Together.

"It looks good." Is all she says.

She desperately ignores the gaping silence where Armin would have made a comment or two, and tries for a smile directed at him.

This time, there's a faint crinkle by the corner of his eyes, the green in his irises seem to shine with the rays of sunshine peeking through the window.

When his smile turns less brittle and more soft, Mikasa lets herself hope.

* * *

The days pass by in a blur.

Every other day, they would take turns in chopping wood out the front of the little cabin they call home. If they were feeling a bit playful, they'd make it into a competition to see who got the most wood chopped. Mikasa would always let him win, would somehow always be short of one or two blocks of wood just so she can see that small, victorious smile on his face.

Those moments were rare, though, and most days, they would simply sit on the bench by the front and watch the clouds pass by, deep in thought. Sometimes, if she was feeling particularly brave, she'd reach out and grab his hand, fingers intertwining with his.

And once the sun started to set, when the warm winds became chilly and the sky erupted into hues of pink, orange and yellow, Eren would look at her, his face silhouetted by the colors of the dying sun.

He would always get this lost expression when they watched the sun, his gaze glued to the horizon, as if looking at something only he can see.

She never asked him about it, only called his name whenever it seemed as if he's slipping away from her, when he looked too far away, when his gaze flickered as if tracking something with his eyes. He would look up at the sound of his name, awareness flooding back in his gaze, and tell her it's time to come inside.

He never stayed to watched the sun set fully.

They'd go back to their little cabin. Eren would set up the fireplace, placing the wood they chopped to the burning embers. Mikasa would walk to the small kitchen located in the same room, taking out the meager ingredients they managed to collect and scrounge up a meal for them both.

Eren would make the table, while she prepared dinner. He had once argued that they should take turns cooking meals, but one look from Mikasa said it all; because as much as she loved Eren, he really couldn't cook to save his life.

And sometimes, when they had to wait for the food to boil and simmer, they would stand by the fireplace and reminisce on the old times; of their days back at the training corps, when they were still young and naïve, back when the only enemy they fought were mindless titans and not the whole world seeking to destroy them.

Those moments never lasted. One wrong word, one small mention of Annie or Reiner or Bertolt, or the friends they left behind, and they would sink into silence. The only sound would be the low boil of the soup as it cooked by the kitchen next to the fireplace.

She would tug on his sleeve, and with a smile, she'd tell him the soup's done.

They would eat dinner quietly, the log crackling every one in a while by the fire. He'd wash the plates after dinner while she dried them with a cloth, and she would always ask him what he wanted to do the next day. Most of the time, he would reply with the same answer, the same routine. Sometimes, he would suggest doing something new, like swimming by the river, hiking up the mountain, or picking flowers.

On the rare days when he was feeling particularly nostalgic, he'd ask her to spar with him, and she would look surprised for a moment before agreeing. And the next day, when the sun is fully up and the clouds are mere wisps at the sky, they would spar, and it would be just like the old times.

After, when they're sweaty and covered in dirt, they would bring fishing supplies and head to the river near the cabin. They'd take turns bathing while the other catches fish. Mikasa always gets the biggest fish, though, much to Eren's dismay.

At night, when the temperatures are freezing and the fireplace blazes its heat, they would huddle up beneath the blankets in one bed. It was big enough for both of them to fit and still be comfortable.

On the first night, Eren had argued for her to take the bed, that he would just take some blankets and sleep on the floor. Mikasa hadn't allowed that to happen, the floor was cold and hard, and the blankets wouldn't be enough to cushion him in his sleep.

It had taken a few more words from her, but after a small, heated debate, he relented and slept on the bed beside her, laying on the very edge of the bed until he was threatening to fall down.

A week had gone by until they both relaxed enough to face each other during sleep without devolving into a blushing mess, and a month until she felt bold enough to tuck her head under his chin. She had been immensely relieved when she felt his arms come up, not to push her away, but to embrace her.

And every night has been the same.

Mikasa can admit, if only to herself, that nights spent sleeping in his arms are the best sleep she has gotten in years.

* * *

_ "Mikasa, I've always hated you." _

_ "Mikasa, I've always hated—" _

_ "Mikasa, I've always—" _

_ "Mikasa, I've—." _

_ "Mikasa—" _

_ "Mikasa." _

"Mikasa."

She wakes up with a gasp, opening her eyes to the sight of concerned vivid green eyes.

Her eyes feels heavy. There is a constant ache beneath her eyelids and her head throbs just like it used to back then.

Eren's face is contorted with worry and something else she can't name. He holds her arms when she tries to sit up, steadying her. His gaze is focused on her, particularly her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

Mikasa's fingers dig into her hair, eyes closed as she fights off the persistent headache. It's peculiar. None of her past headaches have ever been as intense as this, and she hasn't gotten one since they ran away. So, why now?

She feels a warm hand soothingly rub her back, another brushing her hair away from her face. Eren's voice whispers soft reassurances to her, just like he had done whenever these kinds of incidents happened.

The pain leaves almost as soon as it comes, leaving her with dull senses for the next few seconds. When she opens her eyes, she glimpses Eren staring distractedly at something behind her.

As if feeling her gaze on him, his attention snaps back to her. His eyes, which were beginning to tighten in the corners, soften.

She tries for a smile, but it comes off as more of a grimace.

"I'm fine. I just had this dream..." She trails off, her mind suddenly blank. She tries to recall what she had dreamt earlier but comes up short. Only flashes of moments, nothing that she can discern, pops up.

What had she dreamed about?

"You were crying." Eren states, brows furrowed with concern.

That gives her pause. She reaches up to feel her cheek, and it comes off wet with tears. She... didn't even notice she had been crying. It must have been a strange dream, to have put her in such a state.

She tries to shrug it off as she wipes away her cheeks, but Eren beats her to it, grabbing a cloth and dabbing at her tears gently. Her heartbeat pick up, and she can feel her face heat.

Mikasa turns to face him fully, taking in the crease in his brow as he delicately smooths the cloth over her cheeks, the downturn of his lips, the green in his irises. And suddenly, she is struck by another image of Eren, with his hair tied back and a harsh glare directed at her.

She doesn't know what it means.

Mikasa detaches herself from those thoughts as Eren starts leaning away, his hand retracting from her face and depositing the damp cloth to the small table by the bed.

She grips his shirt sleeve when he goes to stand up. Her face is turned toward the bed sheets, expression hidden by the curtain of her short hair. She still feels shaken, her forgotten dream and her headache have made this morning start off on the wrong foot. The image of Eren looking at her like she was nothing only served to plummet her already spiraling mood.

Mikasa feels a dip by her side as Eren settles next to her on the bed, his arm reaching up to wrap around her shoulders, pulling him towards his chest. She feels his head turn away and can almost imagine the embarrassed look on his face as he refuses to look her in the eye.

Her arms come up to encircle his waist, hands fisting his shirt. He feels warm, like the flames burning during the night as they fall asleep to the sound of logs crackling in the fire.

"Will you tell me what your dream was about?"

She hesitates, the image of Eren's cold, verdant eyes staring daggers at her.

"I don't really remember much." She lies.

"Hm. Okay, then." He pulls away, a reassuring smile on his lips. The image overlaps with the vision she saw in her head, and she has to blink a few times to get it out of her sight.

And then she registers what she is actually seeing.

Eren's visage is illuminated by the early morning light peaking through the curtains, his clothes rumpled and short hair disheveled, sticking up everywhere from sleep. But it is his smile that captures her attention, the gentle upturn of his lips and the soft crinkle in his eyes. It was such a contrast to what she had seen that it was nearly impossible to think he was the same person in her dream.

"How about I cook breakfast?"

And then the moment is broken.

His statement gets her moving away from him and up the bed. Almost running in her haste, she misses the mischievous glint in his eyes, as she walks towards the small kitchen.

"Come on, Mikasa. Just this once!" He calls after her, and if she didn't know him any better, she'd almost say he was whining.

"No, Eren."

Mikasa would suffer a thousand headaches and then some before she lets him make what constitutes as a decent 'meal' for him.

She can hear his laughter, faint as it is, echo throughout the walls of their home. It was the first time in so long that he's laughed so genuinely, and something in her warms at the sound of it.

She can hear him shuffle about behind her as she slices onions. Just as she's reaching for the pot, she feels heat coming from the fireplace.

She turns around to see Eren placing a few logs into the flames, his face bathed in the orange light from the fire. He looks up and sends her a smile, dusting off his hands and placing them by his side.

"I'll set up the table."

Mikasa turns back to the soup she's making.

The sound of plates and cutlery being set down the table blends in with the sound of water boiling in the pot and the thud of the knife as she chops potatoes.

The curtains are drawn open to let natural light in, and the blaze from the fireplace chases away the early morning chill.

Eren finishes setting up the table and comes to watch her prepare breakfast. She subtly shows off her knife skills which garners an amused huff from Eren. Her heart soars at the hint of a smile on his lips.

They eat the warm soup, Mikasa piling vegetables on his bowl and reminding him to eat his greens, while he grumbles about it but obediently does as she says.

That afternoon, they catch a big fish and roast it in a campfire Eren made just outside the cabin.

When night comes, Mikasa buries her face on his chest as he wraps stout arms around her.

She falls asleep with a smile on her face, basking in his warmth.

It feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot get over chapter 138. it had me crying and thinking about it 24/7. so i wrote this to get it out of my system, but now it's worse


End file.
